


Hold On

by sayaleigh



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Depression, Fluff, Like really angsty, M/M, Slow Build, Songfic, at the end, brothers trying to help, i guess?, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayaleigh/pseuds/sayaleigh
Summary: “I miss you,” he heard himself say.  He started at Gilbert in surprise, and wide red eyes met his own.More than ten years ago, Prussia and South Italy had an obvious interest in each other.  They gave up too early, but the doubt about what could have been is still nagging at them.





	Hold On

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up like a month ago with an extreme need for angsty Prumano, so here we are. It was supposed to be short, but would that really do the justice they deserve? Insp. by "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet
> 
> Unedited...again...haha

**HOLD ON**

_Hold on, I still want you.  
Come back, I still need you._

* * *

 

Lovino watched Gilbert as he left the room.  He kept expecting him to turn around, for those bright crimson eyes to find his own.  Instead, there was an unusual stiffness in the Prussian’s shoulders.  Lovino watching him shift his papers and snicker at something his brother said, but he didn’t turn even a little bit.

Lovino couldn’t move from where he stood, his hands still on the back of his chair.  The wood was cool and unforgiving under his fingers, though it caved when his short fingernails bit into it.  The room emptied out around him, a few of the other nations casting him curious glances.  He didn’t want them pitying him, but it felt as though he were trying to think through a thick fog.

Gilbert _never_ just left like that.  Not anymore.  For the past two years, he’d been almost annoyingly persistent when it came to trying to get Lovino to talk to him or to go get a drink.  It seemed like he was trying to find any excuse to get Lovino to hang out with him, but today he’d just walked out without a backward glance.  Confused, Lovino thought back to their last interaction.

_Gilbert wore his familiar, shit-eating grin as his hand fell on Lovino’s shoulder.  Lovino turned to him as if he’d been waiting for it—he had, but there was no way he was going to let Gilbert know that.  Instead, he shot the Prussian a look that he hoped came off as cool and uninterested.  He didn’t think he could handle the way Gilbert would start crowing and showing off if he found out how close he was getting to cracking Lovino’s shell._

_“Hey, no need for that,” Gilbert laughed, but there was an unfamiliar edge to it.  His eyes were shifty, barely lighting on Lovino’s face.  Normally, he couldn’t seem to look away._

_Something unpleasant coiled in Lovino’s stomach.  Like it or not, he was actually concerned for Gilbert.  He didn’t like the way the other was avoiding him like this, even when he was right in front of him.  The uncertainty made him lash out, scowling up at the taller man._

_“Yeah, like I’m going to let you tell me what I need.  You’ll probably just prescribe a bigger drink and a ‘healthy’ dose of your dick,” he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.  He expected Gilbert to laugh and shrug that off like he always did._

_It didn’t happen.  The smile slipped from Gilbert’s face, sending Lovino’s heart plummeting towards his shoes.  Gilbert’s face seemed to close, a light dying in his eyes.  Every detail that shifted before his eyes scared Lovino more.  He pretended not to see it, turning and leading the way out of the room.  He could hear Gilbert’s shoes on the flagstones behind him, and for a moment, it calmed him.  It didn’t matter if he went back to the hotel with Ludwig—for a moment, they were headed in the same direction, together._

He’d finally pushed it too far, hadn’t he?  His prickly personality and short temper had pushed away yet another person just when he was ready to make himself vulnerable.  The loss felt greater than it must have looked on the outside.  He and Gilbert couldn’t really even be called friends, but Lovino felt as if something had been torn from him.

 ~*~

Over the next three years, he tried to find a way to ignore the gaping hole in his life.  He lingered after every meeting, thinking that maybe this time, Gilbert would stop and smile at him.  Maybe he’d hiss a joke under his breath as he passed, his hand lingering for just a second on Lovino’s shoulder.  Lovino had already decided he’d be enthusiastic, even more than whatever Gilbert said called for.  It never happened.

There was nothing but pride stopping him from saying something first, but his pride was a fierce beast.  Every time he so much as thought about taking those last few steps and opening his mouth, his entire body locked up.  Every time, he was left staring helplessly at Gilbert’s back as the Prussian left him behind, again and again.

After that, he stopped waiting.  He slipped out almost before the last presenter was done, ducking his head and rushing down the empty halls of whatever grandiose, over-decorated building they were meeting in this time.  There was always a lump in his throat, and he gripped his blazer as if strangling it would somehow help him force down his emotions.

Inevitably, he would end up in a bar.  The first few years, he would drink a few glasses and maybe hook up with a human who caught his eye.  No more nations—there was still only one that filled his head.  As the years slipped by without any sign of reconciliation, Lovino let himself fall further from the image of perfection he had always tried to maintain.  He gave up any pretense of government work or social engagements.  He hated the way Feliciano looked at him, but instead of addressing it, he secluded himself even more.

 ~*~

Ten years after Gilbert had stopped speaking to him, Lovino attended what he figured would be his last meeting.  What use did they have for him anymore?  Feliciano could handle the country by himself, and if his people didn’t get a fair say, well, that was nothing new.  He gazed blankly at a spot on the wall during the presentations, the words tumbling around him like so many fallen leaves.  He wasn’t aware of anyone watching him, concerned or frustrated or anything else.  His pen never brushed the page in front of him even once.

“…And that’s why I think we should pull together our strongest badasses and consider this hero thing,” Alfred finished.  The blond jumped slightly at the clatter of the chair as Lovino jumped up, heading for the door before anyone could stop him.  He could feel eyes on his back, but whatever silent reprimands they had weren’t enough to stop him.

* * *

 

“I think someone should go check on Lovi,” Felciano commented suddenly.  He was already stripped down to his underwear and curled up against Ludwig’s side, so it was obvious it wasn’t going to be him.  Ludwig didn’t look inclined to move either, with a book in one hand and his other arm wrapped securely around Feliciano.  In fact, they were both looking across the room at Gilbert, which he discovered when he looked up from his phone.

“Wha…You want me to go get him?” Gilbert asked, his heart leaping to his throat.  He and Lovino had barely spoken for the last decade, and to be honest, he wasn’t really inclined to change that.  It wasn’t that he didn’t like the older Italian, but the way they’d left things was just so…yeah.  There was no way he could face Lovino.  Lovi probably still hated him, if the way he ran from every meeting was anything to go by.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Feliciano assured him confidently, “Besides, he’s a happy drunk.  I mean, if he isn’t depressed when he starts.”

The silence following that last comment lingered uncomfortably.  Gilbert looked down at his phone again, but Sailor Moon Drops no longer held any appeal for him.  His stomach was turning like a restless dog over the prospect of talking to Lovino again.

“Please?” Feliciano asked finally, breaking through the cloud of tension that was settling over the room.  He gave Gilbert that wide-eyed, puppy dog look, and of course Gil was weak against that.  He groaned dramatically, but he was already getting to his feet.  It was almost worth it to hear the way Feliciano cheered.

“Yay!  Okay, so he texted me the address when he got there.  I’ll just forward it to you,” Feliciano explained, leaning over to get his phone.  Both Gilbert and Ludwig seized the moment to admire his ass as it poked up into the air, but then the view was gone as Feliciano sat up.  He focused on the cracked screen of his phone as Gilbert pulled on his jacket.  He’d just stepped out of the hotel room when his phone chirped in his hand, announcing the text’s arrival.  He tapped on the address, opening it up in Maps.

 ~*~

Lucky for him, the bar was close.  The air cooled quickly at night, but Gilbert’s jacket was still a bit much.  He shrugged it off as he entered the bar, looking around for Lovino.  Shit, what if he’d decided to go bar hopping without letting Feliciano know?

He headed up to the bar, leaning on it and waiting for the bartender to finish up with a drink.  Things were starting to get busy, but this wasn’t the type of bar that blasted its music.  Gilbert was able to get the man’s attention with a single quick wave.

“Hey, I’m here to pick up a guy who probably started too early.  Cute, Italian, dark hair?” he asked.  The bartender nodded immediately, pointing over at a secluded booth.

“We’ve been given him diluted stuff for the last hour or so.  He must be really out of it if he hasn’t even noticed.”  He shot Gilbert a curious look as if the Prussian would offer to explain this, but Gilbert wasn’t even looking at him anymore.  His heart had launched into another round of acrobatics, but he steeled himself and headed over to the table.  He could do this; he was the great Kingdom of Prussia!  He’d been in more battles than he could count.  Facing an old crush was nothing.

No matter what he told himself, his heart wasn’t listening.  It stopped dead for a moment at the sight of Lovino, slumped over in his seat except for that one jaunty curl.  Gilbert’s knees went rubbery, but he forced them to keep going.  Before he knew it, he was beside the table, watching his own hand reach out to rest on Lovino’s shoulder.  He could feel the warmth of skin under the thin fabric of Lovino’s dress shirt.

“H-hey,” he began, then cleared his throat, “Hey, Lovino, Feli sent me to pick you up.  It’s time to get back to the hotel.”

His heart stuttered again as Lovino lifted his head.  His eyes seemed dull and confused, not like the bright green-gold Gilbert remembered admiring so much.  It had been years since he’d seen Lovino so close, and…he wasn’t really the way Gilbert remembered.  In some ways, his features were more exquisite than his memory maintained, but there was no fire behind them.  Gilbert had the disconcerting feeling that he was looking at a mask.

“I…” Lovino began.  Gilbert waiting a moment, but nothing followed it.  Lovino blinked for a moment, but it looked like whatever his train of thought had been, it was gone now.  Gilbert sighed and offered his hand.  He didn’t anticipate the sparks that raced up his arm when Lovino’s smaller hand slipped into his.

Lovino stood and stumbled slightly, crashing into Gilbert’s chest.  For a moment, his head rested against Gilbert’s collarbone.  The Italian felt too thin under his hands, but he told himself not to think about it too much.  It would just hurt him to get attached again.  There was a reason he had given up on Lovino, after all.

“Come on,” he whispered gently.  He didn’t think Lovino could actually hear him over the noise of the bar, but he didn’t fight when Gilbert turned him gently, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

He paid Lovino’s tab, grimacing slightly at the amount, and led him out into the cool autumn air of London.  A damp breeze skittered around them as they stepped out the door.  Lovino snuggled closer to Gilbert, and his fluttering curls mimicked the way Gilbert’s heart fluttered in his chest.  He pushed down the ache in his chest as it tried to whisper that they could be like this if he tried again.

Still, he didn’t push Lovino away.  He kept him steady as they walked back to the hotel, Lovino shivering each time the wind slipped its cool fingers under his collar.  Gilbert did his best to share his jacket without taking it off.  Lovino was small, but not so much that one side of the jacket could wrap around him.

When they reached the hotel, Gilbert realized he didn’t have the key for the room Lovino shared with Feliciano.  He brought Lovino back to his room instead and opened the door to find the room empty.  On the otherwise barren desk, there was a note in Ludwig’s handwriting on the hotel stationary.

_After you left, Feliciano realized he hadn’t given you a key to take Lovino back to their room.  We’ve headed down there, so you two can stay here tonight._

_-Ludwig_

Gilbert realized he was blushing as he looked down at the note.  Ludwig knew how he felt about Lovino, and he went and did something like this?  His younger brother wasn’t vindictive by any means, but Gilbert suspected that he sometimes tried to help Gilbert in ways that, in his opinion, ended up being entirely unhelpful.  He tried not to think about it too much.

He got Lovino settled into the bed and stepped back, but something was stopping him.  He looked down to see that Lovino’s fingers were curled into his shirt—much tighter than he’d expected.  He sighed, but it didn’t take much for him to give in.  He kicked off his shoes and climbed under the sheets next to the Italian, slipping his arms around the other’s small frame.

He wasn’t sure what to do now.  He’d given up on Lovino nearly a decade ago, but somewhere in that time, Lovino seemed to have given up on himself.  He looked down at the Italian in his arms, studying his face for any sign of the personality he’d fallen in love with.

Lovino’s face was smooth with sleep, but there were hollows under his eyes.  He thought Lovino might be thinner too, but they’d never been this close before.  Well…not quite like this.  He realized he was stroking Lovino’s hair gently when the Italian nuzzled into his arm, reacting to the affection.  Gilbert’s heart fluttered, but he told himself that Lovino would have done the same for anyone.

Something warm and wet suddenly dampened Gilbert’s sleeve, startling him.  He peered more closely at Lovino’s face and realized…he was crying.  For a moment, all Gilbert could do was stare.  Lovino cried a lot, sure, but not like this.  He was crocodile tears and childish pouting, not crying quietly in his sleep like there was some deep, fierce pain that wouldn’t leave him alone even then.  Gilbert’s heart ached at the sight in front of him.

Slowly, he raised a hand and brushed at the tear track that arched across Lovino’s nose.  The Italian let out a soft, sniffling sound and pressed closer again.  A whimper escaped him a moment later, but as far as Gilbert could see, he hadn’t woken.

“Gil…”

Gilbert’s heart nearly stopped.  There was no way he’d heard that, right?  The idea of Lovino crying out for him in his sleep, actually crying _over_ him…He didn’t know what to think of that.  On the one hand, he wanted to believe that Lovino felt something for him too, but he couldn’t get his hopes up like that.  He had to think of something else that could be causing Lovino to run himself into the ground like this.

* * *

 

Lovino woke the next morning with a headache and the morning sun burning through his eyelids.  He groaned and rolled over, feeling the blankets tighten around him like they were trying to pull him back into sleep.  He almost succumbed, but then the scent of fresh, warm coffee tickled his nose and made him open his eyes.

Gilbert.  Gilbert was there, and as the sight of him flooded Lovino’s eyes, his mind came to a screeching halt.  What the hell was _he_ doing here?  And bringing him coffee, if that was really what was happening.

He sat up, and his heart flipped over a couple times when Gilbert smiled at him.  Seriously, what the hell?  He couldn’t even begin to think through the situation in front of him…At least not without that coffee.  Gilbert offered him one of the mugs he held, and Lovino reached for it greedily.

Holding the mug in both hands, he snuggled back against the pillows and watched Gilbert over the rim.  He felt a little sore and had a headache, but that was to be expected.  What he wasn’t sure about was the rawness around his eyes.  He hadn’t been crying in front of the Prussian, had he?

Gilbert took a seat at the table, refusing to look at Lovino.  He played with a slip of paper, sliding it back and forth over the lacquered surface.  Lovino could see that there was something written on it, but from here he had no hope of seeing the words.

Silence hung between them, thick and awkward.  Lovino could see beams of light from the window falling on dust motes in the room, but he imagined it was proof of tangible stress between them.  He wanted to break the silence, but what was he supposed to say after a decade?  There was no way in hell he was going to voluntarily admit that he’d spent the entire time pining after the idiot in front of him.  Unfortunately for him, Gilbert didn’t seem to have any qualms about addressing it.

“You were…Were you crying over me?  Last night?” he asked suddenly.  Lovino didn’t think he’d ever seen Gilbert look so self-conscious.  He’d figured out a long time ago that most of his confidence was of the “fake it till you make it” variety, but he’d never been allowed a glimpse past that before.  It left him speechless, staring at the Prussian with only the cool press of ceramic against his lip to anchor him to reality.

“I…” he began finally, but he had no idea how to finish that.  There wasn’t even a fully-formed thought to complete.  Finally, he swallowed hard.  He put down the mug and started to climb out of the bed, swearing when the blankets wrapped around his legs and tried to suck him back in.

He heard Gilbert get up and suddenly he was there, his hands lighting on Lovino’s shoulders and gently pushing him back towards the bed.

“Hey, no.  I bet you feel like shit, don’t you?  I’m sorry, I won’t bring it up again,” Gilbert promised, rambling a little in his panic.  His face was paler than usual, like he was afraid of Lovino leaving.  The expression reached deep inside Lovino and tugged at some emotional center deep inside him.  He stopped struggling.

“I miss you,” he heard himself say.  He started at Gilbert in surprise, and wide red eyes met his own.  It was always so hard to express his emotions, but without thinking, he’d managed to sum up so many of them in three tiny words.  Tears pricked at his eyes again, but he blinked them away furious.

This time, it was Gilbert struggling to form a complete thought.  Lovino turned his head so he wouldn’t have to watch the Prussian gaping at him, his mouth opening and closing without producing a sound.  He should go.  He should really go.

Before he could try to struggle free of the bed again, Gilbert’s warm, rough hand suddenly took his.  He jumped, his gaze leaping to the other man’s face again.  The surprised look had been replaced by something more earnest.

“I’m still stuck on you too,” Gilbert confessed quickly.  He was in such a rush to get the words out that they tripped over each other, but Lovino understood every one.  Their impact hit him like physical blows and left him trembling.

_Gilbert.  Wants me.  Still._

The thoughts came in disjointed pieces, but the tears came back as a flood.  He sobbed into Gilbert’s chest, not sure when they’d wrapped around each other.  Gilbert was whispering in his ear, his words broken and slurred together until Lovino couldn’t understand them anymore.  They didn’t matter.  He already knew what they meant.

~*~

His head ached from the tears and the lingering consequences of alcohol.  He was so exhausted that reality seemed to flicker around him—or was he floating?  He couldn’t tell anymore.

A hand squeezed his gently, and he turned his head.  Gilbert, lying on his back on the other side of the bed, smiled at him.  He felt his lips twitch in an answering smile.

Right.  They were together now.  All it had taken was fifteen years, three hours of talking, a few accusations, and an ocean of tears.  Lovino felt a bubble of laughter fight its way out, tired and almost hysterical.  Gilbert gave him a questioning look, but Lovino just shook his head and curled into his side.

Everything was okay now.


End file.
